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Prologue

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The sound of pitter-pattering feet resounded down the stone corridors, mingled with the swishing and swooshing from the fabric of gowns rustling against the ground. Most occupants of the Red Keep could have easily recognised to whom the sounds belonged without even batting an eye in their direction. But it was the voices that confirmed their predictions.

"Come on, Vaerda," Rhaenyra Targaryen expressed with a look of utter annoyance as she firmly tugged her sister, several years her junior, behind her. Much to Vaerda's chagrin.

"Nyra!" Vaerda Targaryen groaned as she unsuccessfully attempted to remove her arm from Rhaenyra's grasp. She was still being tugged down the corridor by her sister. "Stop! Stop! You're hurting me!"

Rhaenyra came to a quick halt and released an exasperated huff before she folded her arms over her chest and glared down at her little sister. "Why won't you ever just do as I say?"

Vaerda rubbed her shoulder. It felt as if Rhaenyra had been close to tearing her arm off the way she was dragging her around. They always did as Rhaenyra said. They played the games Rhaenyra wanted and read the books Rhaenyra chose. It wasn't fair. "Why can't we do what I say?" Vaerda whined as her bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

"Because this is important," Rhaenyra responded, resting her hands on her hips. She was annoyed that her younger sister would dare defy her.

"You always say that!"

True, Rhaneyra mused. But that was beside the point. "Besides, I'm older."

"I know that, Nyra." Vaerda's tone spoke volumes. "You're always reminding me."

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes. Why couldn't Vaerda just do as she said? It would make life much easier for everyone. Especially her. "So . . ."

"So?"

With an exacerbated expression Rhaeynra was about to shout at her sister when Septa Bernyce rounded the corner. "There you two are," the older woman grumbled, slightly picking up her skirts so she could quicken her pace toward the princesses.

Vaerda looked over her shoulder to see what Rhaenyra had noticed and the younger Targaryen girl's eyes widened in horror. She quickly turned back toward her sister and glanced up at Rhaenyra with pleading eyes. "You don't think she means to make us do needlework again, do you?"

"She most certainly does," Rhaenyra mumbled with her arms crossed over her chest. But despite her sour disposition, Rhaenyra noticed the mischievous glint in her younger sister's eye. She took a step closer and whispered. "You're not thinking what I think you are, are you?"

Vaerda grinned a rather wicked expression. With her back turned toward the septa, Vaerda kept her hand in front of her chest as she made a small gesture toward herself and then pointed in one direction. Rhaenyra sighed an exaggerated sigh, not wanting to give Vaerda the impression that she wanted to follow her younger sister's plan, despite it being rather brilliant.

The younger Targaryen girl mouthed:

Three

Two

One

"RUN!" both girls shouted in unison before taking off in opposite directions in a flurry of giggles.

Having played this game several times with Septa Bernyce, the girls split up knowing that the woman couldn't possibly follow them both. Mother would surely have words with them both later regarding their actions, but she would surely understand their plight. Their punishment would likely include an apology to the septa. But Vaerda had a sneaking suspicion that Septa Bernyce hated teaching Vaerda needlework just as much as Vaerda hated learning it.

As Vaerda grew older, she would long for the days when the most difficult things about her day were slipping a septa or arguing with her sister over matters of nonsense. If only she had appreciated those days more, instead of wishing for days when she would be older.

If only . . .

If only . . .